up close and personal

Words are tricksy things. It is easy to think we understand them, to think that we know what someone is trying to say. But really, words have so many different meanings, acute and unique to the person who is speaking them. Even if we thing we understand, we generally only half understand.

Have you ever listened to a song, and felt like that song was meant for you in that moment ? Did you listen to that song ove rand ove rand know that you understood exactly what was being said, what the singer was feeling when they wrote the lyrics ? Did you feel the music in your bones, as if it resonated with your very being ? Probably you have, but it’s more than likely that you only half understood…that you were only half listening.

A little over a year ago, a friend of mine passed on a bunch of music that he had picked up in Europe. Most of it was french hip-hop, some of which i was familiar with, and some that was totally new to me. The first CD he gave me, though, and the one he was really excited for me to have, was a CD called Midi 20 by french slam poet called Grand Corps Malade. I listened to the CD driving home, and mostly just listened without trying to focus on and translate the lyrics. I liked it, but I wouldn’t say I was taken by it right away. But the next day, my friend asked me if I had listened to the CD. Wasn’t it great ? Did you listen to this song ? That song ? His favorite was a song called « Ma tête, mon cœur, et mes couilles » (« My head, my heart, and my balls »). Surprise surprise. So I listened to the CD again, and set myself to really listen. Every time I listened to it, it got a little better.

Since receiving the CD, I listen to it every once in a while. Every once in a while I will have one of those moments where I really feel a song (although they aren’t really songs, but poems, sometimes set to music, or sometimes just the words with sounds in the background, but for simplicity I’ll use song). Getting ready to come to France, I listened to it quite a bit because he speaks very clearly and is easy to understand. I even named my blog after one of his songs (which, ironically, just started playing on my iTunes). In this song, he explains the things he sees from his window—kids playing in the street, the different people who hang out at the café across the street. And he also talks about the feelings and thoughts that the things he sees inspire in him. That’s what I wanted my blog to be like.

Then, in the first week or so of being in Lyon, I saw that he was coming here. I had to go. I went to buy a ticket, and ended up buying two because there weren’t many left, and I knew I wasn’t going to want to go alone. This past week, I talked to some friends about going, but i twas too expensive, or they had other things going on. I was a little nervous that, not only had I wasted 25 euro, but I would be going alone. Then, I invited a friend that I really haven’t seen much since the first couple weeks, and she said she would love to come, and I got all excited. We even got together early to cook a yummy dinner and drink Beaujolais wine before the concert. So going into the concert I was in a good mood.

And then it started. Well, at least the opening act started—a stand up comedian. But i twas Grand Corps Malade who announced him, and just hearing his voice, even though he was off stage, kind of gave me chills. He has this really intensely low voice that is just amazing (especially coming out of this tall skinny white guy). Sammy, the guy who opened, was really good and funny, an dit was a good way to get into « french mode », after spending the evening speaking english with my friend. Then Grand Corps Malade came on stage and opened with one of his poems. He was a silhoutte, shrouded in smoke and lit from behind. The whole concert had this sort of mystical feeling, everything shrouded in smoke. I could go on and describe the whole thing, but I wont. I’m going to go back to my train of thought from the beginning of this post.

What I felt sitting in the theater was that, even though I got the songs when I listened to them on my iPod, even though I really enjoyed them, when I heard them live in concert, I understood them on a whole other level. And I didn’t really even have to try. I didn’t have to focus on the words and their meanings. I just kind of followed and comprehended. I don’t know what it is about live performances that are just so much more powerful than anything else you can experience. Ever. I really wish I could explain it better, the feeling that I got listening to the songs that I thought I knew pretty well, and discovering all these new little nuances, understanting a little better what he meant.

Long story short, the Grand Corps Malade concert was tonight, and it far surpassed my expectations—which is saying a lot because I have been looking forward to it for over a month. I think I’ve been more excited about it that for the MC Solaar concert (again, saying a lot, because it’s MC SOLAAR).

I kind of feel like this post is full of unfinished thoughts, but I’m still kind of processing. I do that after concerts. And now I’m gonna do it in my pajamas in bed…and, in the words of Grand Corps Malade himself, « je me couche avec le sourire et je dors sur mes deux oreilles ».